


Touch That Warms The Heart

by insomnnni



Series: On The Subject of Storm Clouds [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Temperamental Logan, Touch-Starved Virgil, Virgil-centric, Yelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-08 12:04:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18622948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insomnnni/pseuds/insomnnni
Summary: Virgil has always had a problem with words.All types of words—whether they’re on paper, in his head, or coming out of his mouth. When he writes, his words are incomprehensible even to himself. When he thinks, he does more harm than good (usually to himself), and when he speaks, he almost always sounds stupid.So how is Virgil supposed to say what he needs?





	Touch That Warms The Heart

Virgil has always had a problem with words. 

 

All types of words—whether they’re on paper, in his head, or coming out of his mouth. When he writes, his words are incomprehensible even to himself. When he thinks, he does more harm than good (usually to himself), and when he speaks, he almost always sounds stupid.  
  
So he mostly doesn’t write or speak (he can’t do much about the thinking problem) but, unsurprisingly, that can be a problem when humans—and sides—more often than not use words to communicate with each other. It’s really no wonder that Virgil is misunderstood constantly.  
  
Sometimes, though, this is more than just a problem—it’s a fucking _travesty_.  
  
——-  
  
Virgil realized what he needed at two in the morning on a Saturday and it’s absolutely Patton’s fault.

  
He was sitting on the left-most cushion of the couch, Patton immediately to his right with Logan and Roman next to him. Virgil was the only one awake, the others having fallen asleep hours ago, but his eyes were closed nonetheless. He’d surrendered himself to the fact that he would not be getting any sleep before morning, but there was no reason to keep his eyes open in a room without light, so he let them shut.  
  
Virgil didn’t know if he’d been sitting there for 30 seconds, five minutes, or an hour when he felt something warm and heavy fall onto his right shoulder. His eyes snapped open immediately and he sucked in breath through his nose, turning to his shoulder. He wasn’t surprised to find Patton’s head resting there, snoring and smiling slightly.  
  
Virgil sighed and closed his eyes once again, suddenly a bit drowsy and sleepy. It was then that he truly felt the weight on his shoulder and the heat that had begun seeping through his hoodie. It felt...nice, having someone so near. Really nice.  
  
So when Patton shifted and his head fell onto Logan’s shoulder, Virgil felt cold. Not outwardly, no, but as if the lack of contact had made him empty. That concerned Virgil—the fact that physical contact could have an affect on him in that way.  
  
Before he could overthink, Virgil reached over carefully, lifting Patton’s head from Logan’s shoulder with his left hand and resting it back on his own. Virgil smiled at the warmth that filled him, then frowned. _Oh_ , Virgil thought. _Fuck_.  
  
Because physical contact is something Virgil likes, so much so that he feels cold without it, but what is he going to do— _ask_ the other sides to touch him?

The anxious side involuntarily winced at his thoughts, jostling Patton. The moral side shifted and yawned, opening his eyes groggily and Virgil, realizing they were still touching, gently shoved Patton off his shoulder and practically ran to his room, ignoring Patton’s confused _What?_ and locking the door behind him.

 

Virgil did not leave his room the next day. The other sides knew that sometimes he needed time alone and did not question him or express any concern (and Patton’s questioning glances were ignored and dismissed).

 

Virgil kept his head down for the next few days.

—

  
It happened with Roman one week after Virgil’s epiphany.  
  
Every Sunday, Roman wakes up early with Patton, cooking breakfast and singing or humming Disney songs while dancing around the kitchen as they work. So when Virgil leaves his room for breakfast he’s not at all surprised to see Patton and Roman dancing together, spinning through the kitchen with their fingers intertwined. (Virgil ignores the pang of jealousy within him—not for either one of them specifically but simply for the fact that they’re _holding hands_.)  
  
Virgil makes his way into the kitchen, settles at the table, and immediately takes his phone from his pocket and opens Tumblr, scrolling mindlessly. His attention is completely elsewhere, despite his efforts to focus on the amount of shitposts and depressing memes glaring back at him, because Roman and Patton are still singing, still dancing, still holding hands. Until—

  
“Kiddo, you’ve gotta let me go now! Who else is going to make my famous Patton Pancakes?” Patton smiles at Roman as the romantic side whines and Patton begins to dance toward the stove, pulling his hands away from Roman’s. “Dance with Virge over there! I’m sure Ballroom is _just_ his style.”  
  
“But Daaad,” Roman frowns but relents when he receives no response, “Okaaay.” He turns to Virgil, who is still pretending to be paying attention to his phone, and drops to one knee, extending his hand. Virgil puts his phone down, faking confusion at Roman’s presence. The prince smiles widely and clears his throat dramatically, “Will you, Virgil, in all your anxious excellence, allow me the pleasure of being your dance partner this fine, Sunday morning.”  
  
And what is Virgil to do but say yes—not for the sake of the dancing, of course, but Virgil would be lying if he said he didn’t hope they’d hold hands. Honestly though, Virgil would settle for anything at this point.  
  
It’s been an entire week since Patton’s head was on his shoulder and he’s gotten little to no physical contact with the other sides, so he’s feeling a little (see: very, very) empty.  
  
So Virgil could not blame himself for the smile that graced his face when the warmth of Roman’s hands began to seep into his. Nor can he judge himself for slipping his eyes closed, trusting Roman to lead him. When the prince began humming a different tune, a slow one, Virgil did judge himself for resting his forehead on Roman’s shoulder, but he did not move because Roman did not ask him to.  
  
The two sides danced around the kitchen in that position for nearly ten minutes before Patton announced that breakfast was ready, leaving to inform Logan, who was in his own room. The anxious side made no move to distance himself from Roman, but the prince pushed him gently away, keeping their fingers interlocked between them and stepping back. Virgil opened his eyes slowly and was met with the sight of Roman’s eyes observing him shrewdly, the creative side’s mouth pulled down into a frown. “Hey, Virge,” Roman spoke gently, squeezing Virgil’s hands in his, and Virgil was coherent enough to detect the concern in his voice. “You okay?”  
  
Virge nodded slowly and reluctantly pulled his hands away from Roman. He could feel his heart begin to freeze over from the lack of warmth as he walked to the chair he was previously sitting in and slouched, reopening Tumblr. Roman sat across from Virgil and the anxious side could feel the weight of his gaze.  
  
“Hey! I’ve got Logan!” Patton rushed to the kitchen table with Logan trailing behind him, sitting down next to Roman while Logan sat with Virgil.  
  
“They can see that, Patton.” Logan said dryly.  
  
Roman turned his attention from Virgil and made eye contact with Logan instead, exclaiming, “Well, Pat, I think you’re absolutely wonderful for sharing this information with us! Logan’s just being a grump, as _usual_.” Logan rolled his eyes playfully, knowing Roman was joking, and Patton chuckled as Roman began practically inhaling the pancakes.  
  
Virgil smiled, not because of Roman’s shenanigans but because the prince’s observant eye was no longer trained on him. _I have to get myself together_ , Virgil thought. _I can’t just go around touching people and I can’t ask for cuddles or hugs...so I guess I better get used to the cold._  
  
——  
  
It happened with Logan two and a half weeks after Virgil’s impromptu dance with Roman, and Virgil was freezing.

 

It wasn’t a secret to anyone, including Logan, that the logical side had a temper. When things weren’t going according to plan (A.K.A. Logan’s Way), he lost it. Logan knew this and he was trying to work on calming himself down and controlling his temperamental tendencies, but he sometimes he slipped up. Like now, for example, as he argues with Virgil in the living room about an outing that Thomas was invited to.

 

Virgil’s stance on the matter was this: Thomas would be ostracized, people would ask about his job and be disappointed with his answer, no one there would like him or appreciate his presence, and he’d end up alone or leaving early anyways.

 

Logan’s stance was this: Thomas has been avoiding his friends for too long and it was negatively affecting his mental health, there won't be many people there and Thomas will know most of them, and it is very likely that Thomas will have a good time and his dopamine levels will increase.

 

Their volume levels raised rapidly and soon they were yelling, attracting the attention of Roman and Patton who left their rooms to investigate the cause of the commotion. Virgil’s voice was loud but not as loud as Logan’s, whose face had become red, and Patton as well as Roman found themselves prepared to intervene if necessary.

 

It was then that Logan reached out and grabbed Virgil’s shoulders and shook the anxious side back and forth, over and over, nearly violent enough to hurt, and screamed, “WHY ARE YOU NOT LISTENING TO ME? DO YOU NOT WANT THE BEST FOR THOMAS, THE BEST FOR ALL OF US? LISTEN TO ME! LISTEN TO ME! LISTEN—“

 

It was only when Logan had stopped shaking him and stopped yelling or speaking at all that Virgil noticed his own chin was bowed, his eyes were closed, and all tension had left his body. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, barely even _breathed_ because Logan’s hands were still on Virgil’s shoulders and it had been _so long_ since he felt such warmth. The anxious side knew that he should be utterly furious at Logan’s violence towards him but he just _couldn’t._

 

“Virgil?” Virgil distantly heard Logan’s voice and the sheer amount concern in the single word he spoke, but he could not bring himself to respond. All he could think about was Logan’s touch, Logan’s warmth, and the fact that he wasn’t so _cold_ anymore. It was only when Logan removed his hands from Virgil that the anxious side jolted and opened his eyes, the muscles in his back and shoulders tightening and his jaw snapping shut where it had been subconsciously ajar.

 

He stepped back and blinked once. Twice, before turning away and walking slowly to his room, shutting and locking the door behind himself without a word.

 

—

 

Virgil remained in his room for the following two weeks, freezing even beneath two layers of clothes and his comforter; cold even while he sweat under his blankets. He only left (enveloped in two long-sleeved shirts and his sweater) when he became too hungry to ignore, and though the sides did not require food, they feel much better with than without.

 

He passes the living room as he makes his way to the kitchen and notices Roman, Patton, and Logan sitting on the couch, speaking to each other in moderately low voices, hunched over in a way that prevents them from seeing Virgil.

 

The anxious side has almost made it to the threshold of the kitchen when the floorboards creaked beneath him and the chatter of the others stopped abruptly. Virgil didn’t stop though, and continued to the kitchen, grabbing five granola bars from a cupboard, and beginning to walk back to his room, refusing to acknowledge the weight of the three pairs of eyes resting so heavily over him.

 

“Virge,” He halted at the sound of Patton’s gentle voice, but did not turn to face the couch. “Please. Look at us. We want to talk to you.” And how could Virgil _not_ turn around when he could so clearly hear the desperation and pleading in the moral side’s voice.

 

So he turned around but kept his eyes lowered, settling himself in the armchair by the couch without a word, and waited. He waited for them to yell at him for being in his room for so long; for enjoying their touch; for being _such a fucking mess_ ; for existing. Because he’s definitely yelled at himself for all of those more than once, and it wouldn’t be surprising if they did too.

 

“Virgil,” Logan is the first to speak, “We’ve noticed your odd behavior recently—spacing out at times, lowering your head, and the fact that you locked yourself in your room for a prolonged period of time—and we have a...guess as to why you’ve been acting this way that we’d like to share with you.”

 

Virgil opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again, “Okay. What…what are you thinking?” Keeping his eyes on his socks, he brought his knees to his chest, curling his arms around them, and braced himself for the wave of scorn and hate he was sure he’d receive.

 

“Virgil, my lovely dark prince, my knight in obsidian armor...are you touch-starved?”

 

And that just about broke him. Tears burst from his eyes and he set his forehead on his knees. He sobbed as he heard shifting from the couch and felt gentle hands combing through his hair. He sobbed as a fingertips lightly rubbed his back and shoulders. He sobbed hardest when his legs were carefully moved so his feet were resting on the floor and he was gathered into three pairs of arms.

There was no cold to consume him here. Only warmth, relief and something that tasted a lot like love.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to SpectralHeart for being my beta and @all-da-fandoms on Tumblr
> 
> Next: A Hermit Crab Named Desire (A.K.A. three times Patton, Roman, and Logan ask to touch Virgil plus one time he tells them what he wants)


End file.
